


trouble in the bathroom

by nightmarefuckboy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A littttttle bit dub-con, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Atsumu is horny and he wants him some Hinata, Boners, Confessions, First year Shoyo, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Time Skip, Right after the first Inarizaki match at nationals!, Second year Atsumu, Semi-Public Sex, Virgin Hinata, jerking off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarefuckboy/pseuds/nightmarefuckboy
Summary: Hinata's just minding his own business in the bathroom when Atsumu suddenly appears to stir-up some trouble.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 13
Kudos: 214





	trouble in the bathroom

Trouble always finds Shoyo in the boys bathroom. It’s not like he actively goes searching for it, it just sort of…  _ Happens. _ This time, trouble comes in the shape of a second year with blonde hair and a lazy drawl. That twin from Inarizaki, what’s his name? Miya something. 

He’s got Shoyo with his back up against the tiled wall, a perfect kabedon that can only exist on the pages of his sister’s shojo manga. 

Or at least that’s what Shoyo believes. 

His life isn’t some cheesy romance story. He doesn’t get cornered by hot upperclassmen with lazy smiles and fancy, dyed hair like this, ever. If anything, Shoyo’ life is more like a nail biter of a shounen sports series, but that’s neither here nor there. Right now, though, it feels  _ a lot _ like the former. 

“Is everything okay, Miya-san?” Shoyo swallows. He can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but stare at the way fresh sweat rolls down the side of Miya’s cheek and gathers at the tip of his chin, dripping onto the floor. 

“Call me Atsumu,” Atsumu sighs his own name like it’s a dirty word, a dangerous sound that worms its way into Shoyo’s core and makes his body react. Heat rises within him and makes his own pores begin to leak and stain the armpits of his jersey. 

As Atsumu inches closer, Shoyo swallows and braces himself—expecting the absolute worst. Guys like Miya Atsumu eat boys like him for breakfast. They chew little first years up, spit them out, and use their bones to pick their teeth clean. They take whatever they want and give nothing in return. And Shoyo, in his own sad opinion, believes he has absolutely nothing he could possibly offer Inarizaki’s setter. 

Atsumu pauses and smirks, eyes heavy laden with something that looks foggy and terrifying. His hot breath smells like cheap spearmint gum doing a shitty job at covering up the stench of fatty tuna. Yet Shoyo doesn’t mind the stench, it’s actually making his brain go all fuzzy. He vaguely remembers hearing from somewhere that fatty tuna is an aphrodisiac? Something like that… 

“Look down at what ya’ve done,” Atsumu murmurs, licking his lips. 

Shoyo blinks. “Huh?” Escapes from his parted lips. 

_ Down?  _ What could he possibly mean? 

But as Shoyo’s gaze moves to the desired spot, he becomes immediately aware of what he (apparently) did. 

Shoyo has seen his fair share of accidental hard-ons in the Karasuno boys locker room. He’s in high school, accidental boners happen to the best of them. However every stiffy he’s encountered in the wild, has always been just that, an accident and not… Well…  _ Directed _ at him. 

The massive tent in Miya Atsumu’s shorts strains against fabric as if it’s trying to point directly to the source of its anguish. Miya Atsumu’s hard-on is no accident.

_ He’s—! _

“Go ahead,” Atsumu speaks again, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper, “touch it.” 

_ Touch it?  _

Shoyo’s thoughts begin to spiral out of control as his heart hammers in his ears. Miya Atsumu. The number one high school setter in Japan. Arguably the hottest boy to walk the face of his goddamn earth wants him, chibi-chan Shoyo, to touch his dick. 

_ Ba-thum. _

Is Atsumu serious? The only dick Shoyo has ever held is his own—well, there was that one time he accidentally grabbed Tsukishima’s when he was searching for his phone, but that totally doesn’t count! There’s no way his sweaty palms would make Atsumu feel good. He needs more experience, more time to process! 

_ Ba-thum. _

Atsumu could have anyone in the entire world touch his dick. Shoyo can think of five people who for sure would do a better job at giving Atsumu what he wants. So why choose someone like him? Someone so clueless and just… Not at the same level. 

Suddenly Atsumu grabs Shoyo by the wrist. Every and all thoughts come to a screeching halt as Atsumu guides Shoyo’s open, and far too sweaty, palm to grip his erection. 

_ He’s huge! _

Atsumu’s eyes flutter, too long eyelashes stained with sweat, and his mouth hangs slightly open as he shivers. When the softest of moans slips out from those wet, parted lips, Shoyo loses all sense of reality. His hand trembles, frozen and unable to move like the rest of his body. What is he supposed to do!? Squeeze it? Stroke it? Let go?! Anything he chooses probably won’t be satisfying enough for someone as cool and experienced as Atsumu. 

“Do you like how it feels?” Atsumu leans in and whispers into Shoyo’s ear. He guides Shoyo’s hand, pulling him by the wrist, to stroke his clothed erection from base to tip. Atsumu’s dick has to be at least seventeen centimeters, maybe even bigger. And Shoyo’s touching it, making it grow even firmer beneath his touch. Shoyo’s pulse thumps so hard, he can feel it in his fingertips. It makes him wonder if Atsumu can feel it too? 

“Have ya done this before?” Atsumu murmurs and squeezes Shoyo’s wrist. 

Shoyo gasps and shakes his head ‘no,’ the shock of being asked outright if he’s given another boy a hand job completly dashing away any embarrassment he might have felt from answering truthfully. 

“Good,” Atsumu says, pulling back and squeezing Shoyo’s wrist a second time, contracting tighter. Despite his inexperience, Shoyo is an incredibly fast learner. He knows when someone wants him to follow their lead. So he squeezes Atsumu’s shaft just as hard as Atsumu did to his wrist, earning a pleased groan from the older teen. 

The noise awakens something within Shoyo, a fight or flight instinct that tells him he needs to protect himself, lest Miya Atsumu devour him without so much as a reason why. He quickly retracts his hand out of Atsumu’s loose grasp and pushes him away by the shoulders. 

“A-Atsumu-san… Why are you doing t-this?” Shoyo asks, flushing a deep shade of red as his voice quakes with his body. He does everything to keep his eyes on anything but Atsumu—the stalls, the paper towel dispenser, the door,  _ anything _ that will keep him from losing his mind. 

“Why?” Atsumu blinks, unphased by Shoyo’s reluctance. “Do ya want me to stop? Cuz, I don’t think ya do.” 

Shoyo’s breath catches in his throat and he dares to look back at Atsumu. His face doesn’t show any signs of disdain or scornfulness. Quite the opposite actually. Atsumu looks even hungrier than before. His half lidded eyes smolder while the left side of his smile quirks upward in amused smugness because he knows he’s right. Shoyo doesn’t want Atsumu to stop. He wants to know what it feels like to hold all of Miya Atsumu in his hands. What it sounds like when Miya Atsumu moans and sighs how badly he wants to be touched. And what it tastes like to have all seventeen centimeters of Miya Atsumu weigh heavy on his tongue. 

Atsumu leans in again, pressing their bodies nearly flush against each other. “In fact,” he says, and then drags his tongue along the whipcord muscle on the column of Shoyo’s neck while his hand palms at Shoyo’s own neglected erection. “I reckon ya like this as much as I do,” he whispers and drags his fingertips along Shoyo’s shaft, stopping to tease his clothed head. 

Shoyo nods on the wave of a moan. “N-not here,” he says, slipping his eyes shut and succumbing to the pleasure of Atsumu’s touch. 

“Oh?” Shoyo can hear the smirk in Atsumu’s voice and feel it behind his ear. “Where then? Maybe in front of everyone? In the gym, on the floor, right beneath the volleyball net?” Atsumu licks the shell of Shoyo’s ear, slow and languid, and pulls back. 

The suggestion makes Shoyo’s face, and groin, feel like it’s on fire. Who knew the suggestion of exhibition would make him react this way? It makes sense, being an athlete who enjoys a crowd’s uproar. But that doesn’t mean Atsumu should suggest it! Even if it would be really fucking hot to get his ass literally handed to him by Atsumu on the court in front of hundreds—no, thousands—of spectators. All eyes on them as Atsumu builds Shoyo up and tears him apart with only his hands. 

Shoyo leaks a little at the thought, making a nice stain on the front of his shorts. 

“I think it’s better in here. I wanna have ya all to myself, if that’s okay?” Atsumu says with a wink, still toying with Shoyo’s straining head. 

“Uh…” Shoyo nods weakly.

“Right on,” Atsumu says, smiling as he closes the distance between their lips and kisses Shoyo so sweetly that the younger boy wraps his arms around Atsumu’s neck and immediately kisses him back. Standing on the tips of his toes, Shoyo melts into Atsumu. He can’t even feel his calves strain from the hyperextension, there’s only Atsumu’s soft lips and warm mouth wiping his mind clean. Nor does he register Atsumu lifting him up against the wall. On instinct, he wraps his legs around Atsumu’s waist to stabilize himself. At this angle Shoyo can easily cup Atsumu’s face, rubbing his thumbs tenderly against heated skin while he opens his mouth to let Atsumu’s hot tongue slip past with ease. 

“Oh, who said you could stop rubbin’ me?” Atsumu teases in between open-mouthed kisses and bucks his hips upward so Shoyo can just barely feel Atsumu’s hard-on against the curve of his ass. 

“I’m… I’m no good at it,” Shoyo admits and cringes at himself. 

“No?” Atsumu says, raising an eyebrow in amusement, looking just as absolutely adorable as he does sexy. “Well I think yer doin’ swell. Ya got me really fuckin’ hard, even before the hand job. You can feel it, right?” 

God, Shoyo wants to die. How could someone like  _ this _ be attracted to someone as spastic and unimpressive as him? There’s got to be some reason. It can’t be Shoyo’s skill. Kageyama made it abundantly clear to Atsumu that Shoyo was just another scrub. And it can’t be his looks. Shoyo’s certain he’s never been considered attractive by anyone. He can’t even get his teammates, let alone someone he’s interested in, to look his way or listen to him babble for more than five seconds. Now Atsumu is showering him with all this  _ attention _ ? Truly a bizarre turn of events. As Atsumu’s cock pokes at his ass cheek again, waiting for a response, Shoyo bites his lip and whimpers. 

“That’s… embarrassing…” 

Atsumu laughs, a quick and piercing  _ ha.  _ “Get on yer knees then, and look for yerself,” he leers, and goes back to abusing Shoyo’s neck, teasing flushed skin with his teeth. 

“A-Atsumu-san! I’m… I’m still a virgin!’ Shoyo yelps, clenching his thighs tighter around Atsumu’s waist. 

Atsumu stops moving, pulls back, and stares at Shoyo incredulously. 

“Yer still—” 

“Yes.” Shoyo cuts him off before Atsumu can say it again. He can’t bear to hear the words again. 

Atsumu hums, probably taking pity on poor Shoyo’s plight. “I guess it can’t be helped,” he says, resolved, as he puts Shoyo down and turns the younger boy around so he faces the wall, hugging his middle section. “I was lookin’ forward to savorin’ ya, but I guess this will have to do fer now. I promise ya will get to taste this later.” He slides his fingers beneath Shoyo’s waistband and violently tugs the fabric down to his ankles, leaving Shoyo completely naked from the waist down. There’s rustling, then the unmistakable fapping noise of Atsumu’s dick thrusting into his own fist. 

Shoyo’s cock bounces in interest. This can’t possibly be happening right now. But as he cranes his neck over his shoulder, the truth reveals itself. Miya Atsumu, eyes screwed shut and hand bracing himself against the wall, jerking off to the sight of his bare ass. Huffing and moaning as his eyebrows quiver and his hand on the wall turns into a clenched fist. For every second that passes, Shoyo thinks to himself this will be the moment when he wakes up and finds himself lying in drenched sheets and soiled pyjama pants. Because everything that’s happening right now is too unbelievable to be true. 

When Atsumu cums with a choked off moan, globs of his seed coat his fingers, sticky and white. If Shoyo weren’t so astonished by the notion of Atsumu coming right before his very eyes, he might have cum untouched as well. Lord knows he’ll cum to the memory of this, for fucking sure. 

As Atsumu’s heavy breathing begins to calm down, he flickers his gaze towards Shoyo and smiles. He brings his soiled fingers up to his lips and begins to lick them clean, officially making Shoyo’s legs give out and send him crumbling to the floor. 

“Oh, yer not done yet,” Atsumu says, hiding his still rock solid cock in the waistband of his shorts, and hoists Shoyo up to stand. His weak knees knock together as Atsumu holds him by the waist in one arm, and takes Shoyo’s leaking cock into the other, pumping just as violently as he did to himself. Shoyo splays his hands against the wall in front of him, desperate to keep himself upright so the dream won’t end. Atsumu’s hand around his dick is scorching, setting his entire body ablaze and making him actually melt (thanks to those trembling legs) into Atsumu’s hold. The only word in Shoyo’s vocabulary is now Atsumu’s name, gasped with such wanton fervor, it reverberates against the tile of the restroom. Everything is so hot, so wet, so Atsumu-san, that Shoyo doesn’t want this to end. Unfortunately, the tension in his abdomen gives when Atsumu digs his thumb into Shoyo’s slit, a knee-jerk reaction that makes him empty into Atsumu’s hand and onto the wall. 

Shoyo stares at the mess he made, mouth agape and head spinning.

  
  


“I’ll see ya tomorrow, Shoyo-kun,” Atsumu says coyly through thick eyelashes, sweaty and tear stained, as he lets go of Shoyo. “And don’t forget my promise.” He winks, leaving Shoyo to fall to the floor once more and stew in his dumbfounded arousal. 

When the door shuts behind Atsumu, he stares at his now clean hand. He feels the sting of future sets as he remembers one of the promises he made to Shoyo that day. 

_ I’ll set fer ya one of these days. _

Atsumu chuckles, bringing his hand to his face and inhaling deeply. 

“ _ Fuck.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Atsuhina is a flavor I can get behind. Also sorry for no miyacest on 11/07, but I wanna celebrate the lesser of two evils with fox yaoi and orange yaoi. 
> 
> Big thanks to my friend [Zakyun](https://twitter.com/ZakkiRen) for letting me depict their BEAUTIFUL comic. 


End file.
